Deception (Dark Desires Origins)

by Nina Croft

  No, she didn’t understand anything. Her gaze fixed on the knife. Unblinking. “Why?”

  “He killed them. He killed my babies.”

  Oh God, she’d found out that her daughters were dead. But that didn’t explain why she was here, brandishing a knife at Destiny. She hadn’t killed Dr. Yang’s babies. And she couldn’t see how Dr. Yang could blame her. She hadn’t even been born when they had died.

  “He has to suffer. I have to take what he needs most.”

  She wasn’t making a lot of sense. Suddenly, the other woman lunged forward, her arm raised, the blade aiming for Destiny’s heart.

  She put up her arms to protect herself, shock slowing her down.

  At the last moment she kicked out, catching Dr. Yang in the stomach, but she didn’t seem to even feel the blow. She backed away. And Dr. Yang kept coming. Destiny warded her off with her arms, but she seemed to possess inhuman strength. The tip of the blade touched her just above her heart, and she went still.

  “Why?”

  Then behind her, the door flew open, and two men rushed in. They grabbed Dr. Yang from behind and ripped her away. She screamed as she was dragged backward, fury possessing her, her eyes wild.

  Destiny rubbed at her chest. The tip of the knife had drawn blood and she stared at her hand.

  She’d accepted that Dr. Yang didn’t love her, but this? It was beyond reason. She shook her head. They had the doctor cuffed now and she was hanging from the guards’ hold, sobbing.

  A third man entered the cell, and Destiny recognized Silas. He wasn’t smiling. “It’s time to go,” he said. He wouldn’t look her in the face, and a sick feeling roiled in her stomach.

  “Go where?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t ask questions, Destiny. Do as you’re told, and this will go easier.”

  She didn’t want to do as she was told. She wanted to know what was happening. She wanted to know why Dr. Yang had tried to kill her and why Silas wouldn’t look her in the eyes.

  “Turn around,” he snapped.

  “Please tell me what’s happening.”

  “Why don’t you tell her, Silas?”

  Destiny glanced around as Dr. Yang spoke. Her words dripped with venom, but as she opened her mouth to say more, one of the guards shoved a gag into it, and she just glared her hatred.

  Silas grabbed her hands and pulled them behind her back, and Destiny felt the cool metal of cuffs against her wrists. She wanted to fight, but she’d already spotted two more guards outside the door. No way could she win this. She had no choice but to go where they took her.

  And she didn’t want to.

  She was scared. Fear was like a live thing writhing inside her. She wanted Milo with a desperation she hadn’t believed possible. Just to see his beautiful face one more time.

  She clamped her lips together to stop herself from begging, because she knew it would have no more effect now than it had with Dr. Yang. Silas clearly wasn’t happy with what he was doing, but she had no doubt he would see it through and nothing she could say would deter him. Kinross had too strong of a hold on all of them.

  Silas took hold of her elbow and guided her out of the cell. She glanced back over her shoulder and caught Dr. Yang’s gaze. The anger had faded to be replaced by sadness and despair.

  Then Destiny was led away. She’d wanted out of that cell so badly, but now she would do anything to be locked up safe inside.

  Silas led her along the corridor, then up the stairs and across the hallway to a set of metal doors. He pressed his palm to the panel, and they slid open to reveal a small metal room. He ushered her inside, the guards following, and the door slid closed. Then they were rising. They were in an elevator.

  It only took a few seconds, and then it stopped and the doors opened. In front of them was another set of double doors with a sign on the door. Medical center.

  That couldn’t be so bad, could it? They were maybe going to do some tests on her. Dr. Yang had done a lot of tests. Some unpleasant, but none had done her any harm. The only problem was she didn’t believe it. Because the world was going crazy. Dr. Yang had tried to kill her, and Silas wouldn’t look at her or talk to her or tell her anything.

  She stood still; her feet locked in place until someone pushed her from behind. She was going through those doors one way or another. She held her head up high and cast Silas a look of scorn.

  The doors led into a corridor, they passed other doors but continued on until they reached the end and a final door. Silas rapped on the metal and it opened from the inside.

  A dark-skinned man stood there in pale blue medical scrubs, a mask on his face.

  Silas was unlocking the cuffs from one wrist. He refastened them in front of her and then gave her a push forward toward the other man.

  “I’m Dr. Michaels,” he said, his voice muffled through the mask. “I’ll be performing your procedure today. Come this way.”

  She didn’t want to. She looked back at Silas.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. Then he turned and was gone.

  The two guards remained in place. She didn’t have anywhere to go. “What procedure?” she asked, but the doctor had already turned away. She peered down the corridor, but one of the guards drew his weapon and pointed at the door, and she took the last steps through.

  At least she might find out what this was all about.

  Inside was some sort of reception room. Two more men in scrubs approached her, and before she could move, one took her arm and the other stabbed her with a needle, injecting something.

  For a few seconds she felt nothing, then a fog crept over her brain, dulling her senses. From then on, the world took on a distant feel as though she were outside her body looking on.

  They undressed her, then put on a pale blue gown that tied at the front before leading her through another door into a bigger room. There were two gurneys, and a lot of equipment. She knew what this was, but her brain wouldn’t cooperate and come up with the word.

  A man lay on one of the gurneys. He was already anesthetized. His eyes closed, a breathing mask over his face. Dr. Michaels leaned over him, doing something with the needle leading into his arm. He didn’t look up as Destiny came in.

  They led her to the second gurney and pushed her down, straightened her limbs. She wanted to get up and run, but she didn’t think she could even if they would let her.

  Then Dr. Michaels was leaning over her. “Count backwards from ten,” he said.

  And the word came to her. She was in an operating theater. They were going to operate on her.

  Then it was too late to think anymore. She breathed in and the gas flooded her mind and the darkness closed in. Then nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “I can assure you of one thing, — the more men you see die, the easier it becomes to die yourself; and in my opinion, death may be a torture, but it is not an expiration.”

  —Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

  “Dr. Yang?”

  Where the hell was the woman? The comm link was still open, but she wasn’t answering.

  “Dr. Yang?” Milo could sense the panic rising inside him and he didn’t know why. There was no reason to believe they would harm Destiny, so why couldn’t he shake the sense of foreboding?

  “What’s happening?” Rico appeared in the doorway, a bottle of whiskey dangling from one hand. He wandered into the room and sprawled on a chair. “Did you get hold of this doctor?”

  “She was there and now she’s fucking gone. Or not answering.”

  “You told her?” Dylan asked, coming in behind Rico.

  “Yeah, I told her.”

  “She understood what you were saying?”

  “Of course she fucking understood.” He took a deep breath and forced h
is mind to calm down. But that sense of foreboding sat in his belly like a weight.

  “We need to move,” Rico said. “We have a limited time frame here, and it’s running out.”

  “We can’t go without Destiny.”

  Rico studied him through narrowed eyes, and Milo resisted the urge to snarl or hurl a fire bolt at the smug bastard vampire. He took another deep breath. “She gave herself up for me.” Rico understood loyalty and paying debts.

  “Mierda,” Rico said, shaking his head. “This is a really bad time to fall in love.”

  Milo did snarl then. He did not need lecturing about love from a fucking cold-hearted vampire. Rico had never been in love. He hadn’t loved his wife—that was what had made him feel so guilty about her death. He hadn’t been there for her. But Milo doubted that argument would get him very far. “I have not fallen in love. I don’t believe in love.” Even as he said the words, he sensed the lie. He believed in love, he always had, he’d just decided that he would never give in to it again because it always ended badly.

  But he cared about Destiny; he had almost from the start. She pulled at something deep inside him, something he’d believed lost centuries ago. She made him believe he could be a good person. Just like Maria. “She saved my life. I owe her. That’s all it is.” Dylan snorted, and Milo swung around to face the werewolf. “She saved your life as well. You owe her, too.”

  “She always said she was going back. They’re her people. Likely, she’s not in any real danger.”

  Milo cast him a look of disbelief. “Do you believe that?”

  Dylan held his gaze for a few seconds and then looked away. “No. I don’t know what they want with her—and I’ve racked my brains thinking what it could be—but I don’t think it’s anything good.” He blew out his breath. “So how do we do this?”

  Milo turned away and paced the room. He was going in anyway, but it would be much easier with the doctor’s help. Right now, they didn’t even know where Destiny was. He was presuming she was back in the cells below Camelot, but he would have liked confirmation. Dr. Yang could also give them information on the number and position of the guards. Help them from the inside.

  “How much time do we have?”

  “We have a twenty-four-hour window. After that, the shuttle won’t get us back.”

  He had an urge to move quickly, a niggling doubt that poked and prodded and told him if he didn’t go now, he would be too late. But he had to temper that urgency with patience. Destiny’s life depended on this. If he barged in there, she could die. She could die anyway. Hell, she could already be dead.

  He turned back to the others. “One hour,” he said. “We’ll give the doctor one more hour, and then we’re going in.”

  “Hey, who’s captain here?” Rico asked.

  “Of this particular ship—not you,” Milo replied. If anyone was captain of this ship, it was Destiny. She’d discovered it, she’d got it functioning…sort of. “Dylan, you keep trying to get hold of the doctor.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  “Mind your own business.” He stalked out of the room and headed for the bridge. He needed to be alone. And this was where he felt closest to Destiny. His bag was here; he pulled out his scrying bowl and filled it with water to form a shallow pool. Then he placed the bowl on the floor and sat cross-legged in front of it.

  He gazed into the dark water, focused on an image of Destiny in his mind.

  Show me.

  For a moment nothing happened. He closed his eyes, pictured Destiny as she had looked lying beneath him in the forest, under the stars, after they’d made love. The look of wonder in her expression. He opened his eyes and concentrated on the water. An image formed.

  Destiny’s face appeared. Her eyes were closed. But she was sleeping, not dead. He tried to widen the picture, to get an idea of where she lay, but it was already wavering, and then it was gone.

  At least she was alive. And it didn’t look as though they had hurt her in any way.

  He sat for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of Dr. Yang. When he opened his eyes, she was there, reflected in the water.

  She was gagged and cuffed and lay on her side on a narrow cot. Her eyes were open, and she was staring straight ahead. Had she confronted Kinross with what Milo had told her about her family? Had Kinross had her arrested? It seemed the most likely explanation—after all, he would hardly want that information out in public. There were going to be some very unhappy people. Either way, Dr. Yang was going to be of no help to Milo.

  He waved a hand over the water and the image shimmered and then disappeared.

  He pushed himself to his feet. There was no point in waiting now. He might as well go in there. He would go through the tunnels and find out what he could, whether she was in her old cell, whether she was guarded. And then he’d risk magicking into the cell—he’d been there before, that always made it more accurate. He’d get Destiny and then they would go to the weapons store and neutralize that threat. Disarm the nukes and then maybe set the rest of the explosives in there to blow. Take out the whole fucking castle and Kinross in it.

  There were guards everywhere in far greater numbers than Milo had previously seen. Had Kinross been waking up his sleeping army?

  Two guards were stationed outside Destiny’s cell, which at least meant she was likely inside. But he couldn’t risk taking them out. If they got off any warning, then the place would be flooded by armed men very quickly. His best chance was to magic in and then take it from there.

  He pulled his wand from his belt and whispered the spell, felt the shimmer of magic in the air, and then he was gone.

  His first thought was that it had worked. His second that he had fucked up and was in the wrong cell. There was a woman on the cot, but it wasn’t Destiny. Dr. Yang lay on her side just as he had seen her in the vision. She was gagged, her hands were cuffed behind her back, and her face was still, her eyes wide. Was she dead? Then she blinked.

  He moved quickly, crossing to the narrow bed and tugging the gag from her mouth.

  “Where’s Destiny?” he asked.

  She licked her lips. “How…?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Where the hell is Destiny?”

  She sat up and turned around, presenting her cuffed wrists to him. He touched his wand to the cuffs, whispered a word, and they sprang open. She turned back, rubbing her wrists and eying the wand in his hand.

  “Destiny?” he prompted.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “You’re too late.”

  Not happening. “Where the fuck is she?” He reached forward and shook her. “Tell me.”

  “She’s upstairs, and right now, I would think they’re cutting out her heart.” She said the words with a total lack of expression, and they made no sense at all.

  “Tell me what’s happening. Now!”

  “Luther Kinross has a weak heart. Actually, I suspect he doesn’t have a heart at all. He brought me along on the trip to find him a cure. He promised me a future for my family if I could save his useless, worthless, treacherous life.”

  “So how does Destiny fit in? What has she got to do with Kinross?”

  She gave him a pitying look. “Destiny is a clone. More precisely, a clone of Luther Kinross. The whole point of her existence is to provide spare parts for Luther.”

  The words still didn’t make sense or maybe he didn’t want them to. He latched on to a thought. “She can’t be a clone of Kinross. She’s a woman. He’s a man. It isn’t possible.”

  “It’s quite possible. It just needs a little manipulation of the chromosomes.” She gave a shrug. “I had plenty of time and for the first time in my life I had no limits on what I could attempt. I got creative.”

  “You cared for her, brought her up, and then handed her over to be slaughtered.”

>   “I had to. I had no choice. It was the only way for my family to survive.”

  “They’re operating now?”

  “I believe so.” She looked around at her surroundings. “Obviously, I’m a little out of the loop.”

  He couldn’t be too late. He’d know if she was dead. Then he remembered the image in the scry. She’d been sleeping. Sleeping or anesthetized? His skin went cold, and a shiver ran through him. Panic awoke in his gut, twisting and clawing. He had to find her. He reached forward and grabbed Dr. Yang’s arm, shook her. “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, but we’ll be too late. Luther always gets what he wants.”

  “There has to be time.”

  She glanced at the comm unit on her wrist. “The operation is scheduled for five minutes. We won’t make it.”

  “Then we have to stop it.” There had to be a way to stop it. They were going to cut out her fucking heart and give it to that bastard Kinross. No fucking way. Think. “Where’s the power supply?”

  She glanced at him sharply. “At the rear of the building.”

  Now he remembered, he’d seen the generator house while he’d been doing a recce of the place that first night. To magic or not to magic? If the spell went wrong, then she would die. But he didn’t have time to take out the guards. He’d never make it out of the tunnels.

  Without giving himself time to think it was a really bad idea, he grabbed hold of Dr. Yang’s arm, raised his wand, whispered a spell, and pictured where he needed to be. They reformed outside in the open air; night had fallen. Dr. Yang stumbled and he let her fall to the ground, as he pulled his pistol from his belt. There was a guard outside the generator house. He was staring at them, blinking. Milo shot him in the chest and then ran forward. The door was locked, and he shot at the lock and kicked the door open.

  The room was filled with the hum of the machines. A man sat at the control console. He glanced around as Milo entered, and he shot him in the head.

  He had no clue how to turn off the power, and he didn’t have the time. He stood, legs braced, and blasted a continuous stream of bullets into the console. There was a small explosion and then the whole thing went up in flames. He shot some more, and all around him the hum of the generators went silent.